


arcana

by WanderingCreep



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Demonic Possession, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingCreep/pseuds/WanderingCreep
Summary: Finn is losing control of his demons, and its Bray Wyatt's fault.





	1. SOS

Arcana

 

Finn is not a weak man. He can’t be, not when he’s the vessel for the king of demons. But more than that, even if he wasn’t possessed by the demon king himself, he’s by no means a pushover.

It’s not as though he’s not been told otherwise by many a critic, as you do in this business. He’s always been told he’s small, he’s not a hard-enough hitter, that he’ll never be a top player. And he’ll admit it: he’s not huge, he doesn’t hit like a wrecking ball, but he’s worked hard to get to where he is now, and while some of it was with Balor’s help, most of it had been success carried on his own shoulders.

He’d never needed Balor’s help to prove people wrong before, and he sure didn’t need it after the fact.

He doesn’t really remember the day he sold his soul to the demon king. He doesn’t remember how he really came across the deal; it wasn’t like he could just meet the thing in a dark alley and make an agreement in blood. It just sort of…happened.

He only remembered that he’d wanted to be stronger; not just his body, but his mind. His endurance in spirit and mentality. He was willing to go to great lengths to attain his goals, but he’d never had much of a mean streak. He wasn’t a monster.

Balor, in exchange for Finn’s physical body, could temporarily make him a monster. It had taken some trial and error the first time; he’d nearly bitten a man’s face off in the middle of the ring the first time he’d let Balor take the reins. Finn had learned to reel the Demon’s power in slightly, inject his humanity into the possession so that he didn’t go overboard. He wasn’t stupid; letting Balor take full control was like trusting a snake. It would never work, and in the grand scheme of things, you were always waiting for the fatal blow to be dealt by the person you were supposed to have trusted.

Balor was still a demon, even if he had helped Finn reach heights he’d never thought possible. He was still a monster.

Finn could never forget that. Just because the demon was on his side for the time being didn’t mean it wouldn’t tear him apart for its own gain.

Finn learned that demons weren’t the only ones that would take people apart for their own amusement. There were people who delighted in that sort of thing.

Bray Wyatt was one of those people.

Finn knows why he’s taken such a liking to him, figures it has something to do with the fact that Finn calls himself a demon. He probably wants to challenge that idea, is salivating at the thought of proving him wrong, proving he’s better than a so-called Demon King.

It’s why he’s been sabotaging Finn’s matches. It’s why he’s been badmouthing him in promos and generally getting on Finn’s last nerves. But Finn is better than that; it’s not the first time someone’s tried to do what Wyatt is doing, won’t be the last.

Balor is…restless, to say the least.

It’s three weeks before the fatal five-way at Extreme Rules, and Finn is already tired of seeing the backwoods priest in the same ring as him, harping on about false prophets and martyrs and the like.

Finn’s heart does a little flip at the mention of demons. Balor’s been relatively quiet since the first Universal title match way back with Seth, but it still kind of gives him the chills whenever someone brings the Demon up, almost as if he was lurking under the surface of Finn’s skin, just waiting for someone to speak his name and bid him summoned from Finn’s bones.

Unless Finn could promise some sort of great prize to satiate the Demon King’s lust for power, he wouldn’t have any reason to wake up really; not like the _universal fucking championship_ was small fry, but it would take a little more to prod the beast into battle after losing it the first time.

It’s just…there’s something off about the way Balor is stirring ever so slightly in his bones and the way it feels like _Wyatt_ is the one making him restless. It’s almost like he’s trying to charm Balor into coming out, like he wants an audience with him. It kind of makes Finn want to recoil, get as far away from the man as he can. There’s something off about the whole thing, and it’s making him anxious.

Wyatt was a threat, yes, but he was one Finn could handle on his own. But it seemed like Balor thought otherwise, the way it felt like some unnatural heat in Finn’s body. This odd push, this writhing energy in his very being, this was different. He could usually summon Balor’s power when he needed it, it was rare the demon actually tried to rip itself from Finn’s control unprovoked.

He takes a deep breath, tries to push the demon back down. Off handedly, part of him thinks that Bray is doing this on purpose. It’s paranoia, mostly, but Finn can’t shake that feeling off.

He really can’t listen to Wyatt preach anymore; he might actually start banging his head against the wall if he stays any longer. It already feels like Balor’s scraping and clawing at his ribs to get out. The short trip to catering is enough time for Finn to cool down and brush off the sudden rush of irritation brought on by Bray Wyatt, leaving Finn with a slight buzz, a hum of electricity in his core that he can’t quite shake. He picks at the veggie plate on display, standing there and nibbling on the end of a celery stick, which is really kind of rude if he stops to think about it –grazing from the catering table like some sort of animal- but there’s not really anyone else milling about so he lets it slide.

Instead he focuses on breathing quietly, trying quell the restless feeling in his chest. He figures Balor was probably getting bored being so quiet for so long –there wasn’t much to do when your human vessel was taking time off in order to heal, so Finn can’t really say he blames the Demon King for being a little giddy. Still, he doesn’t want to accidently erupt on some poor stage hand, so he forces himself to calm down, forces Balor to calm down.

At least until a cup of ranch slides into his field of view and nearly sends him vaulting into the ceiling.

“Sorry, just thought you’d want some ranch with that celery,” says Seth Rollins –when did he show up?

Oh, probably while Finn was chomping on celery sticks and trying to not to have a metaphorical meltdown in the middle of catering.

“Oh, um…thanks,” says Finn, feeling a little sheepish that he’d been caught hogging all the celery on the veggie plate. He’d been picking up stalk after stalk apparently, only now noticing that the once plentiful veggie sticks were now scarce in number and almost non-existent.

“I just saw you pick up stick after stick and stuff them in your face and thought you must really love celery,” says Rollins, almost conversationally, which isn’t weird, considering the two had grown a little more familiar since their stint in rehab together. Still, Finn hadn’t exactly expected him to be so friendly. He wasn’t used to this new version of Rollins just yet.

“I don’t,” he admits. “I just…needed to take my mind off of things.”

“The five-way?”

“Nah. Think Wyatt’s just getting on my nerves. I’d rather just fight already.”

Rollins smiles. “Yeah, I know.” He picks up one of the remaining celery sticks left over from Finn’s wrath and dips it in the ranch. “When the match starts, lets all gang up on him first.”

Finn laughs. “Deal.”

Seth eats the first celery stick and reaches for another one before he says, “You hear anything about who you’re staying with? I know you and Sami used to stay together before he got put on Smackdown.”

He says offhandedly, but there’s something underlying it; curiosity?

“I’m not staying with anyone. Not a lot of guys I’m really close to, not enough open spots,” says Finn, and maybe could’ve worded that a little more carefully, but he kind of wants to see how Seth responds to that.

“Ditto,” he says. “Just thought I’d ask. I’ve got no one rooming with me anymore, and it’s gotten kind of boring being by myself.”

He bites into the next celery stick almost in punctuation.

“Guess it would be, huh? But is it really a good idea to be rooming with the guy you’re supposed to be fighting in a couple of weeks?”

“What, sleeping with the enemy?” says Rollins rather slyly. “Eh. It’ll be fine. Not like I’m telling you all my secrets or something like that. I don’t have anything to gain from that. And it’s not like I hate you or anything. It’d just be nice to be around someone that I can stand to look at.”

Finn doesn’t know whether or not to be flattered by this admission; especially considering the issue of Roman Reigns. Sure, he and Rollins were on better terms since he had come back from injury, but the wounds had probably run too deep to quite be within range of sleeping in the same room together like they used to.

That meant he trusted Finn then, right? Was he sure he trusted Rollins?

It was like Rollins had said: it wasn’t like he had anything to gain from sharing a room with him. They’d still give each other all they had in the ring when it came time to fight. That was the kind of wrestlers they were. Despite everything Rollins had done, he was never one to shirk the quality of his work, and he was a _damn_ good worker. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen how Seth was trying to work things out with everyone he’d pissed off since his run with the Authority. He was trying to be a better person, trying to make up for what he’d done; didn’t he deserve a second chance?

Maybe Finn is just overthinking things.

“Okay,” he hears himself say eventually. He hopes he doesn’t regret it. He smiles a little.

“But I want the bed by the window.”

 

 

Finn has been rooming with Rollins for a week when Sami becomes privy to it.

Being roommates with Seth isn’t as bad as Finn initially thought. They both have the same ungodly training regiment, so when Seth wakes up to go running at six in the morning, Finn is usually awake as well and on his way to the gym.

Already, they’ve established an odd kind of system; they’ll wake up, workout –sometimes together- then go find something to eat before driving to wherever the day’s house show is taking place. It’s not too different from what they would do back in rehab –if they had time.

When they get back from the house shows, they order dinner, shower, and conk out on their beds.

It’s on Sunday, just before the next taping of Raw that Finn actually calls Sami and tries to catch up with him.

“You’re rooming with Seth?” asks Sami.

Finn shrugs, even though Sami can’t see him, not sure what else to say about the situation except, “It’s not like I had a lot of options. And he’s cool; we went to therapy together.”

He can practically hear Sami frowning, and only because he knows Sami is only trying to look out for his wellbeing does he add, “Plus, I’m all set to fight everyone else –I don’t really know the others that well. Joe would probably punch me in the face before he let me stay with him, and Bray Wyatt probably lives under a bridge.” Finn shrugs again. “Roman is like an iron giant, and he kinda freaks me out a little. He probably prefers being alone. At least I get along with Seth.”

“Not like he’s got a very good track record either,” says Sami. “And I _like_ the guy!”

“Well, you like everyone. You’re like a ray of sunshine. And with you being on Smackdown –well, everyone I’m really close with being on Smackdown- my options are kinda limited. I’ll be careful okay? Seth’s…different. He’s trying at least.”

Sami hums quietly, and Finn knows he’s at least dodged another lecture and round of Sami’s goodnatured worrying. Sami saw the good in everyone –even a guy possessed by the king of demons, for fuck’s sake- if he can do that, he can warm up to Seth. Eventually.

“I mean, I guess…”

Finn rolls his eyes. “You’re just like a mom.”

Sami squawks indignantly.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

After Finn hangs up, he lies back on his bed and frowns at the ceiling. Extreme Rules is two weeks away; that’s the only reason Finn can give for the restlessness in his bones. He knows part of it is himself, but he recognizes the subdued fire coursing through his bones, the primal adrenaline that makes his heart flutter sometimes –that belongs to Balor. The Demon King is getting antsy; Finn can see it in his dreams. They’re borderline nightmares now, with a whispering voice like a cold wind over a cemetery that Finn recognizes as the voice of Balor echoing in the forefront of his mind.

_Let me out_

_It’s time_

Each time Finn talks him down. Each time, Finn feels a little more uneasy.

Balor’s never been shy about letting Finn know what he wanted. Finn knows Balor hates it that he’s strong enough to keep him in check most times, never lets him run fully wild. But Balor won’t leave. Not until he gets what he was promised, of course.

Seth comes out of the bathroom then. He’s got a towel draped over his shoulders and a pair of sweatpants on. The steam coming from the bathroom smells of bodywash, smells nice.

“You okay?” asks Seth from his side of the room. He’s looking at Finn with his head tilted to the side as he uses the towel to dry his hair. “You look lost.”

Finn grimaces slightly; it sounds like Seth’s talking to him from underwater, muffled and almost inaudible. “I’m okay,” he forces himself to say. He needs to calm down; he can feel the familiar wave of nausea rolling over him, the energy roiling in his chest. He knows what’s happening, knows it _should not be happening_.

On the other side of the room, Seth mills around, getting ready for bed.

Finn tries to breathe, turns on his side towards the window, and makes himself look at the skyline, watch the way the lights shimmer across the sky, imagine the cool, crisp air and gentle sounds of the cars and nightlife.

Balor resists, shoving against Finn’s consciousness, and for a moment, Finn thinks he’s blacked out and panics, only to realize that he can still see the skyline from the window, and he can hear the sound of bedcovers shifting. Seth’s turned out the lights then.

Finn takes a deep breath, and shoves back against Balor.

_Not now_

_Not now_

With one final shove, Finn brings Balor back down, closes the lid and exhales.

He’d never had to stop Balor from coming forth, but then again, he’d never had Balor try to come forth unprompted. A small tendril of fear curls up Finn’s spine as a thought hits him: was he losing control of Balor? What if he wasn’t strong enough to keep Balor subdued anymore?

Immediately, he shelves that thought, shoves it to the back of his mind. Those were dangerous thoughts. Maybe he was getting careless. He would just have to try harder.

 

 

Finn has a match tonight.

He goes through his warmups, shakes the nerves out, and tells himself he’s good. He’s okay.

He’s got this.

He’s fighting Bray Wyatt tonight. It’s part of a set of teaser matches Kurt Angle has them doing, the contenders of the upcoming fiveway wrestling each other to give the fans a taste of what to expect. Later that night, Roman Reigns and Samoa Joe were supposed to have a go at each other, and despite Finn’s wariness of both of them, he knows they’re good wrestlers, and knows that it’ll be a good match.

When it comes time for Finn to go out, it seems like Balor senses it and decides to go wild, scratching and clawing, demanding to be let out. Finn is barely able to walk to the ring the way his vision tunnels in and out. It feels like he can’t quite fit in his own body, like Balor is swelling up, doing his best to push Finn out to make room for himself.

Somewhere in Finn’s brain, a thought emerges, says that maybe it isn’t a good idea to keep Balor so tamped down for so long. Maybe that was the solution to the issue; just let him come out to play for just a little bit.

It’s probably not the best idea Finn’s ever had, but at this point, the way Balor has been disrupting his life for the past week, he’s willing to slacken the leash a little.

He takes a deep breath, straining to let only a little of Balor’s insane power coarse through his veins. There’s such a ferocity in him, if he let it all out at once, he’d probably risk beating Wyatt to an inch of his life.

Finn has become used to the possession at this point. He’s become less afraid of the whispers, of the ink searing across his skin, of the rage that warms his bones like a fire racing through them. This time, he’s not letting Balor take that much, just enough that his pupils seem a little wider, that his movements are a little more fluid, that his fighting is a little more intense.

When Wyatt finally gets to the ring, Balor is already buzzing in Finn’s head. Maybe he notices that Finn is a little less like himself tonight, because he pauses, tilts his head to one side. Maybe he’s weighing his options. Finn can feel Balor’s disappointment as clearly as he can feel his own. The Demon King had wanted a fight, and it was beginning to look like the night wouldn’t pan out that way.

But then, Wyatt smiles.

Finn has never liked the way Wyatt smiled, always too toothy, too snake-like, always to privy to knowledge he shouldn’t have.

There’s no time to wonder about that now, because Balor launches himself at Wyatt, pouncing like a coiled viper, and the two lock up. So close to the man now, Finn can barely make out anything other than the pounding of blood in his head, the  glimmer in Wyatt’s unnaturally dark eyes, the way it seems like he has too many teeth in his mouth, which is moving suddenly.

“How does it feel?” asks Wyatt above the din of the crowd. “To be set free from your master?”

Finn doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about, can’t make himself voice that thought; Balor’s forcing his jaws shut, more concentrated on swinging Wyatt into the turnbuckle than trying to start conversation.

“Feels good,” offers Wyatt, leaning back into the turnbuckle, before belting out of it in time for Finn to go barreling past. “Doesn’t it? I could make this world yours, better than this boy ever could.”

Finn snarls, and gives him a swift uppercut. He’s realized now that he’s not the one being addressed; it’s Balor.

Because of course Wyatt knows he’s there.

But what the hell is he talking about?

He doesn’t get much of a chance to elaborate, because Balor decides to body him up and down the ring like a rag doll, or more like a lion playing with its food. Finn feels like he’s watching a bloodless massacre, and he almost wants to bring Balor back in, just end the match quickly. But when he tries, Balor doesn’t respond, not so much as a growl at the way Finn mentally tugs on his leash.

Instead, he pulls away, harder, trying to force more of himself out.

“It’s not going to work, boy,” coughs Wyatt from the mat. He’s grinning up at Finn with a too toothy, too knowing smile. He’s got a bad bruise around his eye from a particularly nasty suckerpunch from earlier, and he’s squinting to see out of it.

“Our kind isn’t meant for cages and leashes,” he drawls. “You’re making a mistake. Let him come home. We all must go home eventually.”

Finn doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He isn’t too sure what’s happening either, but before he can react to anything, his vision tunnels, and he hears a roaring in his head. He panics, involuntarily throwing his arms in front of him, like he might be attacked by whatever beast is caterwauling at him.

Then the full brunt of Wyatt tackles him to the mat, and he’s too disoriented to realize what’s happening, too distracted by Balor throwing a tantrum in his skull to realize that the referee has counted to three and that he’s lost the match.

Finn can’t believe it.

The fans can’t believe it.

A minute ago, he’d shown no signs of stopping in beating Wyatt up. Now he was walking back up the ramp the loser in a match he should’ve had in the bag. Somewhere in the back of his head, a voice tells him it was stupid to let Balor have his way like that, especially when Finn had been slipping in control.

Maybe it was just a stupid idea to think he had been the one in control all along.

 

 

“I thought for sure you had that match in the bag,” says Seth once they’re in their hotel room. Finn knows he’s not bringing it up to be mean or rude, but he really wishes he would’ve left it unspoken. He hums his agreement; he should’ve had that match, yeah, he knows. He shouldn’t have given Balor the edge. Shouldn’t have assumed he could control both Balor and Wyatt at the same time; the man was probably some sort of demon himself anyway. He knew how to get in your head better than anyone Finn had ever known, and that’s just what he had done, spouting nonsense enough to get Finn to slip.

“I’ll get him next time.”

“I’m sure,” says Seth. “How’s your shoulder? You didn’t mess it up with that spear did you?”

“Nah. I’m okay. Really.”

Seth nods at him and disappears into the bathroom. A minute later the water starts running, and Finn sighs, throwing himself back against the bed.

He wants to talk to Balor. He’s never done it before –well, not had a conversation, a proper one, since the demon had first taken up residence in his body- not like he’s had much reason to. When he needed it, he asked Balor to lend him his power, but he’d never actually tried speaking to him.

‘ _What’s the problem_?’

Finn waits.

There’s nothing but silence on Balor’s end, an endless, restless shifting the only sign that the demon was there at all.

‘ _Why are you doing this? Why are you so angry_?’

Either Balor is adamantly refusing to give an answer or he’s just as in the dark as Finn is; Finn is willing to bet it’s the former rather than the latter, and with a frustrated sigh, he rolls over on his side and closes his eyes.

He’s asleep before he even realizes it.

 

The alarm clock on the bedside table reads 4:32 when Finn blinks his eyes awake.

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

He can’t breathe, his heart is pounding too quickly. Blood is rushing through his ears, his chest is constricting painfully.

He scrabbles at the sheets, making it worse as they catch around his waist and legs when he tries to escape them. The air is full of harsh, hushed whispers and the sound of Finn struggling to breathe. His skin is crawling, a familiar sensation when the ink scrawled over his arms and legs and chest, erratic and frantic as though someone was writing in a hurry.

He can hear snarling, like some sort of wild animal, and panting like he’s just finished running a mile. It takes him a moment to realize that the noises are coming from his own throat.

Finn squeezes his eyes shut tight, thrashing in the sheets constricted around his body. He’s panicking. He needs to calm down, knows that if he panics, it will be easier for Balor to force his way into his body. he barely registers the sound of the lamp turning on, or the sound of Seth saying his name in the sudden light, soft and confused and sleepy.

“Finn? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Finn shakes his head. “ _Stop_ ,” he grits out, and the minute he hears it, he knows that its not his voice. It sounds animalistic, almost like a growl rather than a human voice. The cadence is all wrong, sounds more like glass dragging over gravestones. “ _Stop. Now_.”

He can hear Seth swear under his breath, probably startled by the sight in front of him. He focuses on breathing, focuses on getting his heartbeat back down, forces himself to calm down. Gradually, he begins to feel the eerie ink script fade from his skin. His jaws open in a silent roar as the shadows bleed away and the whispers subside, slowly, slowly, until they leave behind nothing but an exhaustion that Finn can feel in his bones. He sinks to the floor like a stone, panting from exertion of reigning Balor back in.

Seth still hasn’t moved from his side of the room, looking hesitant. He probably doesn’t want to crowd Finn after that whole debacle. Or he’s probably afraid of him. That seems more likely.

For a while, all Finn can hear is his own harsh breathing. His chest flutters every so often, like Balor is thumping against his ribs, pounding against his makeshift prison.

“I’ve seen that before,” comes Seth’s quiet voice. Finn blinks tiredly up at him.

“At least, I’ve seen _him_ before,” Seth continues in clarification. He nods at him. “Is this, like…is this what it actually does to you?”

Finn shakes his head and leans back. His knee bumps against the nightstand as he straightens himself up against the bed.

“No,” he breathes, still trying to fill his lungs. “No. Not like this.”

“You can’t control it?” To his credit, Seth doesn’t outwardly let on how terrified he is, if at all, more mutedly curious and concerned than anything. He’s doing a good job of pretending not to be scared shitless.

“I can,” says Finn. “I just…I don’t know what happened. I’ve never had to stop it before.”

“Maybe you’re slipping.” Seth still doesn’t sound scared, not even when faced with the all too real possibility that Finn can’t control Balor anymore and all the danger that entailed.

Finn shakes his head, feeling his eyes begin to droop like they’ve bene weighed down with iron weights.

“For your sake, you’d better hope not.”

 

 


	2. chaos lurking

Seth knows he’s probably making a risky move by trying to be this close to Finn. It wasn’t like he was trying to become the guy’s best friend or anything, but was it so wrong to want to patch things up with him?

It had started back in therapy, when they’d both ended up next to each other in two of the cots in the rehab center. Seth had been the reason Finn was even there in the first place, and he felt a pang of guilt when Finn was the one who was being friendly right out the gate. It wasn’t like Seth deserved it; he’d hurt him in more ways than just tearing his shoulder, but Finn had still been the one to strike up a conversation with him when they’re close by in rehab.

Seth tries to take it in stride though. Figures he may as well try to mend broken bridges as best he can; if he can start with Finn, it’ll be a step in the right direction.

Finn is very accommodating, which isn’t to say forgiving, not totally. He recognizes that Seth is trying his best, but he also knows that he should keep his cards close to his vest; he doesn’t really trust Seth not to mess something up.

Seth doesn’t blame him. He’s done nothing to make him think otherwise.

That’s why its kind of a shock that when they get out of therapy and back to work on the roster, Finn actually takes him up on his offer to room with him. This was different than just hanging around each other in a rehabilitation center; this was oddly more personal, letting each other into a small slice of your personal life that couldn’t quite be achieved by just goofing around in therapy.

So Seth does his best. It’s not hard, not with Finn. He’s kind of a simple guy, which is weird considering how complex of a person he seems like on screen. He doesn’t like a lot of junk food, which Seth appreciates when they have to find something to eat. He carries a little pocket set of Legos in his gym bag, which Seth thinks is cute, given the guy is six years older than him at thirty-six, but still has a childish side. Sometimes he forgets Finn is a vessel for the king of demons.

Well, until he starts acting funny a few days into their staying together.

It sounds like Finn is having nightmares each night, tossing and turning, with the occasional whimper. Seth wakes up each time and watches him carefully. He’s no stranger to nightmares, he used to help Dean when he had them when they were still together. Finn’s nightmares don’t sound as terrible as Dean’s, but Seth still does his best to calm him down. He turns the lamp on –because he’s learned it’s better when they wake up for them to be able to see him there – and lays a hand on Finn’s shoulder, brushing his thumb over the goosebumps on his skin. Sometimes Finn flinches away, but every time bears the same result. He calms down, stops tossing and turning, and sighs tiredly, already falling back into a more peaceful sleep.

Then Seth goes back to bed.

The one time it matters, though, Seth is slow on the uptake.

It’s early, too early, when Seth hears it: the sound of snarling, a series of short, whuffing noises like an animal –a dog, maybe. There’s a sound like a million people whispering loudly, all crammed into the tiny hotel room, so close that it sounds like they’re whispering in Seth’s ear. He bolts upright, hears the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, stark sheets shifting all around them, and the snarling continues.

Seth rolls over, fumbling to turn on the lamp on the bedside table between his bed and Finn’s and rubs his eyes. “Finn? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

His eyes fall on a shape on the floor within touching distance, curled in on itself. The skin on Finn’s arms and legs and bare chest and back is turning black –no, not turning black…it’s like some invisible hand is scrawling furiously over his skin, writing nonsensical words over every visible inch of him – and when Finn’s head jerks up at the sound of Seth’s voice, Seth sees his eyes have turned dark. Where blue should be, there’s a yellowing orange glint like embers in a fire, set in a pair of ebony orbs.

“ _Stop_ ,” comes a voice that is not Finn’s. It sounds dark and hellish, like some sort of otherworldly monster that Seth could only dream of, but it sounds like its struggling, straining to speak. “ _Stop. Now_.”

For a moment, Seth thinks Finn’s talking to him. But stop what? Stop talking? Stop looking? Stop watching like some sadist and get some goddamn help?

But then he remembers. He’s seen this before.

Well, maybe not the transformation, but he recognizes what Finn is turning into. He’s fought the beast that’s taking over Finn’s body before, seen it dominating on the NXT circuit. He also knows that from the way Finn looks like he’s in serious pain, this shouldn’t be happening. He doesn’t want this to be happening.

But what is Seth supposed to do? This isn’t like the nightmares. This isn’t something he can solve just by trying to touch Finn to calm him down. How do you stop an unwanted _demon possession?_

“Shit,” Seth swears.

But then, something changes.

Finn claws at the ground with too sharp fingernails, the snarling gradually turning into gasps for air, and strained whimpers. His shoulders shake as he tries to drag air into his lungs, and as his breathing starts to slow, the disembodied whispers begin to grow quiet. The ink on his skin begins to bleed away, disappearing as though being drained away into the air, and when Finn blinks, the black rapidly blinks away with it, leaving watery blue eyes in its wake.

Then it’s over and Finn sinks to the ground in a tired heap.

Seth considers checking to see if he’s okay, but he sees his shoulders shaking and hears his quiet raspy breathing. He’s okay. For the most part.

He lets him catch his breath a little before he says, “I’ve seen that before.”

 Finn turns his head, blinks tiredly up at him.

“At least, I’ve seen _him_ before,” Seth continues softly. He nods at Finn’s boneless body. “Is this, like…is this what it actually does to you?”

Finn shakes his head and leans back. His knee bumps against the nightstand as he straightens himself up against the bed.

“No,” he breathes, still trying to fill his lungs. “No. Not like this.”

“You can’t control it?” Seth is still a little shaken by what he’s just seen. He’s never seen Finn transform; didn’t think it was this _jarring_. The idea that Finn couldn’t control the demon inside him was even more jarring. Just what had he gotten himself into?

“I can,” says Finn quietly, leaning his head back against the mattress. “I just…I don’t know what happened. I’ve never had to stop it before.”

“Maybe you’re slipping.” Seth sincerely hopes not, but what Finn says next doesn’t ease his worries in the slightest.

“For your sake, you’d better hope not.”

A beat of silence passes between them.

Finn shakes his head then. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t…I don’t think we should be rooming together.” He says it like it’s hard for him to speak the words, like he doesn’t want this to be the only option he’s got. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s fine, man,” says Seth, shaking his head. “It’s no worries. I’m more concerned about you. You’re not hurt are you?”

Finn looks at him for a moment. Then he shakes his head. “I’m okay. Just tired.”

“Well you can’t just leave in the middle of the night. Just…get some rest. We’ll figure this out in the morning, okay?” says Seth. “There’s got to be something wrong.”

As far as he knows, there doesn’t have to be anything wrong. He’s not going to claim to be an expert on demons and their vessels. But he kind of needs something to help him get back to sleep, and if saying that there’s something wrong with the demon inside Finn is the only way to give himself some kind of closure, then damn it, that’s the route he’s just going to have to take.

“Maybe something’s bothering it?”

Finn looks up. “What?”

“The demon. Maybe something upset it. Maybe it’s the universal title,” says Seth. He shrugs. “You never actually lost it, and it was there to help you win it. Maybe it’s just angry. Or maybe it’s just excited; you’ve got an opportunity to win it back this weekend. If I was a demon, that’s what I’d do.”

Finn sighs. “Maybe you’re right.”

Seth can hear a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence though. “And?”

“But that doesn’t explain what Wyatt’s been saying to me,” adds Finn. “Yesterday, during the match, he kept trying to talk to me.”

“He always does that. He tries to get in your head and distract you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he was talking to me, exactly,” mumbles Finn thoughtfully. “I think…he was talking to Balor.”

“Balor?”

“The demon. That’s his name.” Finn gives Seth a small, wry smile. “Did you think that was my last name?”

“Not really,” says Seth. “But I’ve heard crazier things.”

“Wyatt kept talking about how it was wrong to keep ‘our kind’ in a cage. He said ‘everyone has to come home’.”

Seth shrugs. “Could’ve just been spouting nonsense. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Normally I wouldn’t either, but this is all a little too…in-character for my taste,” says Finn.

Seth shrugs again. “Then we’ll just have to ask.”

Finn gives him a look, to which he responds, “I’m being serious. If he’s hurting you, then it’s an issue. And besides, it doesn’t hurt to be sure.”

“What if we’re wrong? What if it’s not Wyatt?” says Finn.

Seth frowns, shrugs. There’s only one thing left, then.

“Then we’re fucked.”

 

 

Finn doesn’t talk to Seth much.

Since the incident with Balor, it’s been rather awkward between them. Somehow, Seth can’t shake the feeling that it’s kind of his fault. He’d been insistent that there wasn’t any reason for Finn to stop rooming with him; no one had been hurt, so there wasn’t much reason for him to waste money on a separate room.

And if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t really ready to be on his own again. He enjoyed having Finn around. Hell, he enjoyed Finn himself. He was a good guy, and just being around him made Seth feel like a little bit better of a person.

He wasn’t ready to feel like a scumbag again.

“We’ve got two weeks until Extreme Rules, yeah?” says Finn one evening. They’ve just finished the go-home house show before the pay per view and are lazing around the room. Now all that’s left is the last Raw next week.  “Less than a week.” He shakes his head. “I really should try to keep my distance. If Balor gets riled up again, I don’t want you to get caught up in the crossfire.”

Seth looks up from his bag. “Do you just really not like me?” He means it as a joke, hoping to dissolve the tension, but it doesn’t seem to work.

“What? No!” says Finn. “I just…I mean, no, as in I don’t _not_ like you. I mean, I _do_ like you, it’s just-“

“Chill, man. It was a joke,” laughs Seth, turning back to his bag. “You just seem like you’re in this big rush to get rid of me. Just thought I’d ask.”

“No, it’s because I like you that I don’t want to be around you. I don’t want to accidently hurt you if Balor suddenly makes an appearance again,” says Finn.

Seth shrugs. “I’ve tangoed with Balor before. I think I can handle one more time.”

“No, you fought _me_ with Balor’s help,” explains Finn. “I hope you never have to fight Balor on his own.”

“Well, still. You’ve been doing well enough for this long; I know you’ll be okay. You’re already pretty strong.”

Seth tries to shut himself up before he says too much, knows he can’t say too much without it giving everything away. He wasn’t quite ready to come to terms with his own thoughts at the moment, probably wouldn’t be for a long time because he was so uncomfortable with himself.

That was probably the driving force behind why he was so reluctant to let Finn brush him off. Therapy with Finn had been…interesting. It was a strange turn of events when you felt your chest get hot and your face get tingly when you looked at the man you yourself had just injured not six months ago. To say he had a crush –wow, even thinking about the word made his stomach flip uncomfortably – was…well, it was complicated.

And to be fair, Seth had been struggling to come to terms with the way Finn made him feel since the guy had shown up on the main roster. Part of it had been because he was largely ignored by Finn until he’d been thrust into the main event picture for the universal title, and he’d been unable to explain at first why he was so bothered by Finn’s blatant ignorance of his existence.

But then Finn was gone, and Seth realized that there was a certain sting in his absence. He’d learned from his mistakes by then, and even though he was having some trouble admitting to himself that he was swiftly becoming too far gone for someone who would probably never share the same sentiments, he wasn’t ready to let Finn go quite yet.

So it really sucks that Balor has suddenly decided to rear his ugly head unannounced.

“I still wanna help,” says Seth. “If nothing else, I want a good fight come next Sunday. Y’know, without you going all berserk on everyone.’

Finn looks at him for a moment, tilts his head slightly to the side. Then he smiles. “You’re really trying to be a better person, aren’t you?”

Seth purses his lips, turns back to Finn from his bag. “Um…”

“No, it’s good. I know you’ve made mistakes in the past, and it’s really good that you’re trying to atone for them.” Finn’s smile turns sly then. “And you’re much more fun to hang out with when you’re not being…” He grimaces mockingly. “… _grouchy_.”

Seth can’t help but grin back at him. “Grouchy, huh? Well, I guess you’re right. Feels…kinda good to not be so angry all the time.”

“Well, in any case. I’d rather you not hate me if Balor shows up and tries to beat everyone up,” says Finn.

“You’re a hard person to hate,” says Seth, and, _wow_ , he thought he’d told himself to shut up? Finn takes it in stride though, waving him off theatrically. “Look at you, giving out compliments left and right. You’re practically a mother’s wet dream.”

Maybe Seth kind of wants to be Finn’s wet dream and maybe he also kind of wants to bang his head against the wall. It’s his own fault that he’s in this situation, he knew better than to try to be friends with the guy he had an embarrassing crush on.

“Seriously,” says Seth. “I wanna help.”

“You have to stay away from me,” says Finn firmly, the previously light mood taking a serious turn. “I mean it.”

“So do I,” says Seth, and Finn looks like he kind of wants to punch him. That’s too bad though, because Seth already made up his mind two weeks ago; he wasn’t leaving.

“You don’t understand,” insists Finn. “Balor doesn’t like you. Hates you, even. If you keep hanging around me, he’s gonna kill you.”

“Well he’s not trying to kill me now, is he? I’m standing right in front of you.” He’s aware of how incessant he’s being, especially with the risk of Balor slipping loose from Finn’s control and the sudden and immediate danger of the demon just strangling him right then and there.

If Finn didn’t get around to it first, that is.

“Seth, stop. Please.” Finn shakes his head. “I can’t…we’re friends, right? That’s what you said. Do you really think I want to watch my friend die some horrible, demonic death?”

“You say that like it’s set in stone already.”

“If you keep hanging around me, it already is.”

“Look,” says Seth, “Even if it’s not me, it’s gonna be someone else. You’ve got too many people that care about you to let you do this alone. If I’m not the one badgering you, then it’ll be Xavier, or Sami, or someone. Are you gonna push them away too?”

Finn’s blue eyes are like chips of ice. Seth’s heart breaks a little. They’re too close to Balor’s eyes.

“If I have to.”

Seth shook his head. “I’m not gonna let you do this. I already tried handing off my problems to other people, and it wasn’t worth it. Got me nowhere. If Balor’s gonna try to scare me off, fine. But I can’t leave you like this and let you hurt someone else or yourself.”

Finn scowled at him, frustrated. “Since when did you become such a selfless white knight?”

His expression chips a little once he realizes what he’s just said, and he opens his mouth to apologize, explain himself; Seth was still his friend, even if he was riding his last nerve at the moment.

But Seth grins, shrugs. “Probably after I met you.”

Finn’s entire expression clears into one of stunned silence. Seth really wants to kick himself in the head for saying something like that. What was he even thinking?

Finn shakes his head though. “You’re an idiot. Your sweet talk will get you nowhere.”

He’s smiling the smallest of smiles when he says it though.

 

 

It starts to fall apart again around three in the morning, because subtlety is not Balor’s strong suit – in case the full body markings didn’t already make that apparent enough.

Finn has been lying in bed, walking the precarious line between unconsciousness and waking for almost four hours, jerking himself awake every time something flutters in his chest. He tells himself he’s not scared, but really, who the hell is he even kidding? If anything, he’s worried about Seth being there; should something happen, like it seems like it will, Seth will be in the line of fire. Thankfully, Finn was able to reign Balor back in before anything happened, but god forbid he be unable to stop Balor tonight.

They’d be well and truly fucked.

Finn already knows Balor doesn’t like Seth. Okay, well _‘doesn’t like Seth’_ is a bit of an understatement. It was really more like, ‘ _fucking hates Seth Rollin’s guts’_. Seth staying around was akin to him offering himself up on a silver platter.

God, he got on Finn’s nerves.

And he really shouldn’t like him since he was the one who took him out of action for months on end and was the reason why he’d had to relinquish the only title he’d won so far on the main roster. He also really shouldn’t like Seth’s stupid grins and how expressive his eyes were, and how he could make you want to wrap him in a blanket one moment and then make you want to punch him in the next. Or how he woke up with his hair looking like a bird’s nest. Or how he was really trying his hardest – _god, was he trying_ –  to make up for past sins by trying to be there for Finn, despite a wayward demon lurking just around the corner.

But somewhere in between the disastrous Universal Title match and the return from therapy, Finn had kind of given up on trying to stay entirely upset with Seth. And even later after all that, he’d eventually just embraced the change in both himself and Seth, although now he wondered if he was embracing it a little too hard and maybe the friendly comradery was quickly becoming something more…wild. Something untamable and scary and great all at once.

Something strikes Finn’s core and it reverberates through his body, like someone’s pulled a string taut and then let go. There’s a telltale roiling in Finn’s stomach, a headache building behind his eyes. Shit.

 _Shit_.

What set him off? Finn’s eyes fly open, any thoughts of sleep abandoning him as he focuses on soothing the angry storm that was Balor. Why now?

 _Well_ , Balor seemed to say as he clawed his way up Finn’s throat. _It’s such a special time of_ _night_ , and in Finn’s near panic, he manages to get a look at the clock on the bedside table: 3:03.

He swears pointedly and redoubles his efforts to get a handle on Balor.

 _And secondly_ , came Balor’s voice, angry and throbbing like a pulse behind Finn’s temples, _just where do you get off daydreaming about the whelp who took everything from us?_

 

 

Finn has…

Finn has made a mistake.

He doesn’t know it at the time of making said mistake, not really. He’s never been one to take the words of Bray Wyatt seriously; most of the time, he didn’t even know what the man was going on about tonight; he fancied himself a poet, but Finn was still trying to figure out what the hell Wyatt was really trying to say under the endless metaphorical nonsense.

It’s not like Wyatt isn’t a force to be reckoned with inside the ring – Finn learned long ago not to underestimate anyone's fighting prowess – but for the most part, he just liked to hear himself talk, and his longwinded sermon on the metaphorical mount really made him more of a nuisance than an actual threat at the moment.

Still, Finn could feel the writhing heat of Balor thrumming just under his skin – had been struggling to keep it tamped down since the night he’d let the demon slip in the hotel room -  and Seth had made the observation that perhaps Wyatt’s words had something to do with it. Finn really didn’t want to believe it, and Wyatt spouting pretty words didn’t seem like it was doing much in the way of malice, save for maybe successfully getting on both Finn and Balor’s collective nerves.

Maybe he should’ve tried a little harder to make sense of what the Eater of Worlds was saying after all.

 

 

It’s a week before the fatal five-way at Extreme Rules, and Finn is already tired of seeing the backwoods priest in the same ring as him, harping on about false prophets and martyrs and the like.

Finn’s heart does a little flip at the mention of demons. It’s involuntary; seems like nowadays Balor is looking for any reason to spring to the forefront and it still kind of gives Finn the chills whenever someone brings the Demon up. Now, it was as if he was lurking under the surface of Finn’s skin, just waiting for someone to speak his name and bid him summoned from Finn’s bones.

Unless Finn could promise some sort of great prize to satiate the Demon King, he wouldn’t have any reason to wake up really; not like the Universal fucking championship was small fry, but it would take a little more to prod the beast into battle after losing it the first time. But it wasn’t like Finn would need Balor in the fatal five-way anyway.

He’d fought harder battles by himself, way before he’d even met the Demon King; he could do it again.

“Huh? Oh,” says a voice to Finn’s left. Turning slightly, he finds Seth meandering towards him, eyes turned toward the monitor above them. “Is he still talking?”

Finn grins beside himself, looks back up at the screen. “Yeah.”

“Shit, dude. I left, like, five minutes ago and he’s still at it,” says Seth. He scratches at the back of his head. “Seriously, what is he even talking about?”

“I was hoping you knew,” admits Finn.

“Maybe if I wasn’t a 'godless heathen', I would get some of the references, but,” Seth shrugs, winks, looking not at all sheepish, “it’s a foreign language to me. I’m not super familiar with the religious symbolism.”

Finn laughs softly at that. “Forgot you were atheist.”

Technically Finn himself had been raised catholic, but it was kind of hard to keep up that lifestyle when you were the vessel for an eldritch creature.

Speaking of which, said eldritch abomination is being name-dropped in the ring as Wyatt goes down his hit list of opponents for the fatal five-way.

Something about turning the demon on its master and watching it devour Finn whole, and something about the whole scenario makes Finn bristle a little. Maybe it’s the insinuation that he’s not strong enough to reign in Balor’s influence when it gets to be too much. Maybe it’s the insinuation that he’d be _stupid_ _enough_ to let Balor’s influence get to be too much.

Despite facing that very same problem at the moment, if the night in the hotel room and subsequent close shaves were anything to go by.

Maybe he’s trying to put on a brave face in the looming unease that grows as the Eater of Worlds harps on, but something seems…off.

Not in the way Wyatt’s speaking, but what he’s speaking of. The little flip in Finn’s chest from earlier has become more of a distant thrum, not enough to hurt, but just enough to bother him, to know it was there.

It’s familiar, feels like the grating of bone against bone underneath Finn’s skin, like something’s moving beneath it. Balor’s stirring and it’s a restless sort of stirring. Like he’s readying himself to spring.

Finn shoves that feeling down as best he can. It wasn’t like Balor to get riled up over something petty like some wannabe priest’s nonsensical ramblings. Something else was getting to him. It had to be. Balor wasn’t like this.

Finn winces when he feels his eye twitch. “He needs to shut his mouth,” he growls, actually _growls_ , and then clamps his mouth shut, because that wasn’t _him_. He glances over at Seth still standing there watching the monitor next to him.

He doesn’t acknowledge that Finn’s even said anything, probably too engrossed in being annoyed by Bray Wyatt.

Okay.

This was weird, but it wasn’t enough to send Finn into a panic. That was one thing he’d learned early on when he’d first begun dealing with Balor: don’t panic.

Still, he tenses up. This was different. Balor had never made it a point to respond to Wyatt’s ravings. Even when he’d been in the ring with him, talking directly at him, he’d never responded, not once. Why now? Was Wyatt finally cracking the Demon King’s resolve?

“ _Fuck_.”

“Yeah, he’s starting to get on my nerves too,” says Seth from next to him, and Finn’s heart skips a beat. Too many thoughts are racing through his head.

Seth needs to get away. _Now_.

“Not that,” grunts Finn with a wince, because the shifting of his bones is becoming more noticeable now. Balor’s getting really riled up.

Seth looks over at him then. “Dude,” he says, concern starting to seep into his voice, “you okay? Is it…?”

Finn shakes his head. Or at least, he thinks he does. He can’t tell because everything’s shaking now, trembling softly. He tries to keep his mouth shut; he’s not sure if it’s his voice that will come out if he tries to make the effort to speak, or something – or someone – else entirely.

Wyatt’s still talking in the ring –and god, will he ever shut up? – and Finn can only hear his voice and the thrum of his blood in his ears.

“ _You may think me a false prophet_ ,” booms Wyatt’s voice over the monitor, “ _a heathen priest spouting pagan madness, but I tell you now, that when the skies turn black and the sun disappears into the inky black abyss, you will hear my voice and you will know that what I say is true._ ”

 _“Your mortal gods, your so-called superstars, cannot save you. They may claim to be the shepherds of you lost masses, but in the end, they will lead you astray, right off the cliff and into the churning icy waters below. What,”_ Bray’s booming voice abruptly seesaws into tinkling, manic laughter, _“you thought the likes of a coward, a prideful beast bred for war, a bigot and a shell hiding a demon behind his eyes would save you?”_

Next to him, Finn can practically feel Seth bristling. He doesn’t blame him.

 _“Only I can save you,_ ” shouts Wyatt over the deafening boos and catcalls of the crowd around him. _“Listen only to my voice! I can save your unwashed souls from the pain and grime and despair of this life, but only if you’ll let me.”_

The crowd responds accordingly, some of them goading him on and others outright calling him out on his bullshit.

 _“You’ve got your greedy hearts set on your golden boy, the demon king’s servant Finn Balo_ r _,”_ say Wyatt, _“a golden boy made of fool’s gold. He will disappoint you, he will lead you astray don’t you see? You cannot trust him, an unclean thing who cannot even control the darkness inside him. The so-called Demon King will wrap his fist around Finn Balor’s throat and throttle him until he is no more, and when he is done, he will witness me, and, you, my dear golden boy, will beg for my forgiveness.”_

A hot feeling, scalding and furious, goes racing through Finn’s body, right through his core and into his head behind his eyes, and something roars.

There’s a pop and the crackle of glass breaking, and then darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while, lol. college has been working me ragged and I'm graduating next semester, so the pressure is certainly on! also job-hunting. 
> 
> im here or at neonflavored.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> has this been done before? let me know what you think.


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